


A Tender Moment

by CallieLeigh



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! - All Media Types, Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Darkshipping, Exhibitionism, Kleptoshipping - Freeform, M/M, Puzzleshipping, Tendershipping, Voyeurism, Yaoi, fragileshipping, trapshipping - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-16
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-18 03:55:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 19,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29483304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CallieLeigh/pseuds/CallieLeigh
Summary: After the Battle City tournament, Ryou steals his Item back from the pharaoh. Yami, in turn, breaks into Ryou’s apartment to see what the Spirit of the Ring is up to, despite Yugi’s protests.
Relationships: Bakura Ryou/Mutou Yuugi, Bakura Ryou/Yami Bakura, Bakura Ryou/Yami Yuugi, Mutou Yuugi/Yami Yuugi, Yami Bakura/Mutou Yuugi, Yami Bakura/Yami Yuugi
Comments: 33
Kudos: 31





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a prompt about the Puzzle boys being accidental voyeurs - can’t remember where I read it. Hope you like!

Yami delicately prodded the lock mechanism, listening for the clicks of the pins moving into place that would signify his success. Yugi was trying not to interrupt his other self’s control of their body, but couldn’t help letting his unease and disapproval filter across their emotional link as he worked. 

‘ _I understand your reluctance Aibou, but this is the best way for us to figure out what the thief is up to,’_ Yami reassured, inching his rake forward. 

‘ _I know you’re mad at Ryou for breaking into the game shop and stealing the Ring back from us, but committing the equivalent crime doesn’t feel like justice to me,_ ’ Yugi replied, narrowing his eyes (emotionally, anyway, as far as his backseat spirit form allowed). He looked at the keyhole above the doorknob to Ryou Bakura’s apartment and sighed. ‘ _You have been at this for too long. It is starting to look suspicious._ ’

Yami growled in frustration. ‘ _The thief was in our room in less than twenty seconds! I am out of practice._ ’ 

Yugi reckoned from recalling the security camera footage that Yami’s assessment was pretty accurate, low though the frame rate was. ‘ _You’re not a thief yourself, usually, so that stands to reason. And the man who stole from us was not_ your _enemy but_ my _friend. I would rather talk to him about this than snoop around his place. I still don’t understand why he would want to be re-possessed._ ’

‘ _A pair of thieves then._ ’ The latch finally disengaged. ‘ _Aha!_ ’ Yami turned the knob and pushed the door in. It was winter and getting dark early, so a soft wash of twilight blanketed the interior. He turned the deadbolt closed again and chose not to engage any of the lights, cautiously moving their body forward and inspecting what looked to Yugi like a completely normal college kid’s apartment. 

Anzu and the others were in the dorms, of course, and Yugi himself had elected to brave the longer commute to stay at the shop and help his grandfather, but Ryou was the only one among them who had a place like this. Yugi found himself wishing again that they were closer, but the emotional distance imposed by the events of the Battle City tournament, followed by his recent criminal behavior, had strained their relationship. They had chosen not to involve the police for loads of obvious reasons, especially since Yugi and Yami were both sure that the Spirit of the Ring had found a way out of the Shadow Realm and back into his host.

A short hallway led to a bathroom and two decently-sized bedrooms. On the left, the room literally contained a four-poster bed covered with a fluffy blue duvet, and on the right was an office with the organized chaos of an art studio. A small sandbox was propped up on bricks in the corner, and rooted within was an elegantly-crafted Egyptian palace. Large pyramids in various stages of painting were spread over newspapers in the middle of the room, and tiny figurines next to a paint set and thin, delicate brushes dotted the modest desk. Yami picked up one of the tiny people and admired it. 

‘ _Pharaoh, I think that’s supposed to be you_ ,’ Yugi said with wonder, having to admit that the royal gold contrasted with the sun-kissed color Ryou had used for his skin was quite becoming even on a doll. Yami picked it up and ran the pad of his thumb across the robes, turning it carefully over in his hand.

“I have a bad feeling about this,” Yami muttered out loud, and then his head snapped up when they both heard the sound of a key in the lock at the entrance. 

Yugi blushed at the colorful string of curses that streamed from the pharaoh’s mouth as he returned the figure before swiftly and quietly dashing across the hall to the bedroom. He tucked them silently into the sliding doors of the closet, leaving a small gap so they had a good view of both the door and the bed. 

‘ _Aibou, I thought you said he had class until six!’_

‘ _He does!’_

‘ _And he_ never _skips!’_

‘ _He doesn’t! Maybe Bakura is being a bad influence on him_.’ Yugi pouted then. ‘ _If that’s the case, then I suppose that makes two of us!’_

Yami ignored the insult. ‘ _I wonder why he refers to that dark spirit using his own family name. It would be like you calling me Mutou._ ’ 

‘ _I think that life choice is the least of our concern at the moment, mou hitori no boku._ ’

They heard Ryou’s long sigh and the thwomp of a bookbag on the floor as he entered. Yugi saw a little more illumination filter through to his hiding place as he flipped on lights, then heard some clinking of china and the rush of water from the kitchen sink. A few minutes later, the teakettle whistled and then quieted as Ryou presumably poured a cup of tea, before making his way down the hall. The dainty chime of a silver spoon stirring was the only sound in the silence as Yugi held his breath. Luckily, the pharaoh did too, still being in control of his corporeal body after all.

Ryou brought the tea on a saucer with him into the bedroom, setting it on his nightstand and sitting on the edge of the bed. He unwove his long white hair from its braid, dragging his fingers through the silky strands as it glinted like starlight in the soft glow from the window. Dark circles under his eyes marred his otherwise porcelain face.

“Bakura, I can’t keep on like this. I have to go to class. If my grades suffer then my father will stop paying for this place.”

The spirit of the thief started to materialize from the Ring that Ryou had pulled from under the neck of his shirt, slinking around his waist like a macabre belt before his full form solidified on the bed behind him. Yugi didn’t conceal his shock - it was really difficult for either him or Yami to pull off a visible spirit form, let alone one that had any physical realization. His ghost was still a little translucent, glowing faintly, but the effect was still impressive. Seeing a darker twin of Ryou’s unusual beauty was more alluring than it had any right to be. 

He imagined hot breath on Ryou’s ear as the thief leaned in to speak. “All distractions, Yadonushi,” he whispered, “you have more important work to do here.”

Ryou slammed his fists on the comforter in frustration. “I can’t do _anything_ for you if I have dropped dead from anxiety and exhaustion. I don’t want to steal from my friends and I don’t want to commit any more crimes!” He grabbed his tea and took an angry sip before shoving the spirit away and flopping onto his back, hand draped across his eyes.

Bakura just cackled and floated back over him, a white hand reaching out to caress Ryou’s equally pale jaw. “Well I wouldn’t want you to be stressed, precious host. Maybe there’s something I can do for you that doesn’t involve abandoning all of the fun lawbreaking I have to do.”

Ryou moved his forearm and his eyes widened into chocolate brown plates as the spirit’s hand on his face turned into a hand on his ass instead, drawing them closer together.

“Ba...Bakura please, I…”

“So polite, of course I’ll indulge you,” he purred, leaning forward to press his lips to Ryou’s jutting collarbone, causing him to lose focus on his words and gasp. Bakura’s mouth traveled the line back to his shoulder, planting soft kisses along the way while his hands reached to undo Ryou’s belt and unbutton his shirt in tandem. 

When he reached the muscular curve between Ryou’s shoulder and trapezius, he bit down, eliciting a pained cry that morphed into a delicious moan as he arched off the bed. Bakura took that opportunity to tug off Ryou’s trousers, leaving him in a half-buttoned white dress shirt and conspicuously tented boxers.

Meanwhile, Yugi and his own spirit watched in complete silence, too stunned to even talk telepathically with each other. Yugi could sense a vague concern that Bakura’s Item would betray them and point towards the Puzzle, but the logical processing of the very real danger the pharaoh had gotten them into was entirely overwhelmed by a consuming lust at watching Yugi’s friend writhe like a marionette under Bakura’s talented lips and fingers. 

Ryou’s body flushed deeper as he whimpered, pushing his hips forward seeking some kind of contact, which the spirit denied. He made a frustrated sound and threaded his hands through Bakura’s hair above where his face was attached to one of Ryou’s aroused nipples. 

Bakura hummed and looked back up at him, head leaning away in the direction of the hair-pull. “Oh, that’s right, you’re sentimental aren’t you? I have to say I’m not much of a romantic myself, but I certainly don’t mind making the exception for such an eager vessel.” He licked his lips and then closed the distance between them to consume Ryou’s. 

Ryou’s eyes rolled back and he groaned, wrapping his arms and legs around Bakura’s form like a snowy white crab and deepening the kiss, hips rolling upward to grind on the equal arousal of the spirit.

Yugi could see their tongues glinting as they changed angles and pawed at each other, certain that all of his spirit blood (or whatever it was) had rushed to redden his face, and all of the blood in his body had traveled south to engorge Yami’s cock. It strained against the fabric of his pants and he shifted uncomfortably.

‘ _Aibou,_ ’ entreated the spirit, breathless despite the communication being in their mind, ‘ _we should look away._ ’ 

‘ _Yep,_ ’ was all Yugi could manage as their eyes remained hyper-focused on the entwined Ring Bearers. An image came to him unbidden, of the pharaoh wearing all those regal robes and gold that had been painted on Ryou’s figurine, pinning him on their bed in a similar position, and his brain did cartwheels. Oh gods... _gods_ , he hoped he hadn’t let _that_ fantasy cross the barrier into Yami’s mind, it was already challenging enough to maintain their cooperative friendship sharing a body without indulging a complication like the one Ryou and Bakura were passionately enacting.

Though, when Bakura slid one of his hands down Ryou’s boxers to grab his shaft, Yami did the same. Both Ryou and Yugi gasped, Ryou quite audibly and Yugi mercifully not.

Bakura impatiently tore the remaining fabric away from Ryou’s body and started pumping him as his lips worked purple hickeys into his host's neck and cries of ecstasy mixed with dark moans filled the room.

Yami quietly undid the button and zipper on their pants and struggled to free his erection; once he succeeded, the cool air danced over the hot flesh soothingly and he began to stroke. Yugi could kind of sense what was going on, but couldn’t really _feel_ it until Yami dropped the mental barrier that separated their motor control. The result was a shared consciousness that they sometimes employed in a duel, but _this_ was something else entirely, molten desire permeating through Yugi’s confusion in an instant. 

He felt the dexterous fingers of Yami’s other hand reach below as well to trail softly over the tightened sac, rolling his balls gently in between strokes as Yugi got lost in it - it really, _really_ felt like someone else was pleasuring him, and his own explorations didn’t hold a candle to how incredible this felt. He was starting to get an idea of why Ryou had wanted his spirit back so badly despite his other sadistic qualities, and turned his attention back to the show.

Ryou’s breathing had turned into increasingly desperate pants as he moaned his own name wantonly. It may have sounded narcissistic to an outsider, but out of his mouth and into Yugi’s ears it was tantalizing and erotic. He wondered how his would sound in that melodic timbre if he were between Ryou’s legs instead. ‘ _Yugi,_ ’ Yami cooed, not hiding his agreement with the idea. Yugi was too turned on to consider how uncharted this territory was for them.

Ryou’s pleasure crested suddenly and he yelped, spilling into Bakura’s hand and onto his own stomach, toes and fists curling into the duvet and then relaxing as beads of sweat trickled down his sides.

Bakura was just delighted, slicking his finger through the sticky fluid off of his host’s flat, heaving stomach and bringing it to his mouth, taking a long lick before switching it to Ryou’s, who devoured it greedily, sucking as if it were a cock and not a finger.

Yugi thought that he wouldn’t mind at all seeing Ryou get his face fucked, but the spirit had other plans and was chuckling darkly as he rolled his fingers in more of Ryou’s come and then slipped one into his ass. “Did that take the edge off, Yadonushi?”

Ryou’s breath hitched again and Yugi clamped a palm over Yami’s mouth as Ryou looked Directly. At them. He blinked for a moment, surprised, and then...is that a smirk? Is he smirking? 

‘ _He knows we’re here_.’

‘ _Um…_ ’ said Yugi, mind blanking. 

Yami flashed a smirk of his own and kept stroking, unsure of how much Ryou could see but encouraged by the fact he hadn’t ratted them out to the thief, yet.

Yugi heated with embarrassment. ‘ _Yami what the_ hell _are you doing?_ ’

‘ _Power move,_ ’ the spirit replied, leaning back and bracing himself on a pair of boots in the corner. 

Bakura was scissoring expertly now, burying his middle finger to the hilt every few beats to press into Ryou’s prostate while he squealed, eyes flitting to Yugi and Yami, backlit by the glow of the spirit above him and the Ring that pulsed on his chest. One of the spines had gotten an erection of its own, pointing toward the closet where they were hidden(ish), but luckily the thief didn’t seem to notice as his host gently pushed it down occasionally. He moved to pull Ryou up and flip him onto his knees, but Ryou twisted them so that his ass was pointed toward the closet and his spirit’s eyes would be directed at the headboard when he was taken from behind.

Yami murmured a prayer to Min as Bakura doused his own cock in lube and sunk into the pliant man beneath him, thanking the translucence for being able to see the tight ring of muscle expanding to suck him in. Bakura grabbed on to two tufts of Ryou’s hair and pulled back like they were reins, grunting and thrusting as Ryou’s reinvigorated hardness quivered below them. Ryou moved to wrap his own hand around his shaft and matched his pace, whimpering more loudly this time.

Yugi was drowning in pleasure, and he let their moans fuel it as he inched toward orgasm. The pharaoh was teasing him, changing his pace and whispering sweet-sounding words in another language to Yugi through their telepathic link. It sounded like it was meant for lovers, and Yugi blushed at the implication.

He didn’t have too much time to be embarrassed again, though, as Bakura’s pace became frantic and his back rippled deliciously. “ _Ryou_ ,” he breathed, arching as his climax overtook him.

“ _Oh_ ,” said Ryou, surprised as he too emptied himself again, this time onto the bed

‘ _Aibou, come for me_ ,’ Yami commanded, and Yugi did, hot and hard, using every fiber of his willpower not to cry out as the spirit ran a thumb over the sensitive head to smear his come on the tip as it spurted out onto the floor of Ryou’s closet. 

Bakura had collapsed around Ryou, arms wrapped tightly around his waist as he slowly pulled out, groaning. Ryou turned and pulled him down into an embrace, pressing kisses to his forehead and cheeks that were dripping with whatever constituted sweat for the spirit. “I missed you, Thief,” he whispered, brushing some of spidersilk-white strands behind Bakura’s ears. 

Bakura snorted and rolled his heavily-drooping eyes. “Sentimental,” he repeated, nuzzling Ryou’s neck and gradually losing consciousness. Ryou carefully shuttled his dissolving form back into the Ring and hugged his chest, sighing and closing his eyes as he sat up and pulled his too-long button down around his waist like it was a bathrobe. 

When he opened them again, he looked toward the closet and winked. “You can come out now,” he said to the puzzled pair seductively, wiggling his index finger in a ‘come hither’ gesture that had Yugi gulping all over again.

Yami had retrieved a small towel from their interior jacket pocket (thank the gods he took Hitchhiker’s Guide to heart), and was nearly finished cleaning them and reconfiguring their pants when he met Ryou’s heated gaze. He grinned and spoke to Yugi instead. ‘ _Well, he’s_ your _friend, Aibou, and now here’s your chance to talk to him._ ’

‘ _Yami, don’t you_ DARE…’ But he’d already felt the familiar whoosh of control transfer to him as his other self chuckled from his retreat to the Puzzle. 

Yugi cursed all of the pharaoh’s gods and crawled ungracefully out of the closet with a sheepish look on his face. “Oh, hey Ryou, I must have gotten lost on the way home from class.” He looked around, noticing that a smug look had replaced the bashful blush on Ryou’s face. “Okay...really lost.”

“I have to admit I didn’t quite imagine myself as an exhibitionist, Yugi, but when I saw Bakura’s sworn mortal enemy looking out at me through _your_ pretty eyes, it was rather thrilling.” He shivered in delight and swung his legs over the side of the bed, patting the empty spot next to him. His shirt provided a little modesty, at least. 

Yugi trembled as he stood, brushing himself off and tiptoeing over to the bed. “Is Bakura, um…”

“The only time I get some peace and quiet is after I let him fuck me silly. It takes a lot of energy to be physical for that long. Maybe if you allowed him to have his way with Pharaoh they would forget about their quarrel for a while,” Ryou giggled to a very embarrassed flush from Yugi. Yami had the decency to be appalled, but there was _something else_ underneath it.

Yugi sat on the bed and sighed. Ryou scooted closer and put his palm flat against Yugi’s chest. Yugi caught his wrist and held it, but didn’t move him away. “I don’t appreciate you stealing from me, Ryou,” he said finally.

“I don’t appreciate you breaking into my home.”

Yugi cringed. “Fair point. Would you believe that it wasn’t my idea?”

“Yes.” Silence lingered for a beat. “And I apologize, for doing the same to you first. But, I didn’t steal from you. The Ring is mine.”

“I, um...think I get that now. But you could have talked to me instead of taking things into your own hands.”

“Would you have given it back if I had asked for it?”

“Well _I_ may have. I can’t speak for the pharaoh. I’m sure he would argue that all the Items are his by birthright, and that your thief unlawfully stole the ones he ended up with.”

‘ _More or less_ ,’ chimed Yami.

Yugi continued, “I didn’t know you were um... _together_ though. I’m sorry we came between that.”

“The romanticism is rather one-sided, I’m afraid,” Ryou said wistfully, staring at the ceiling. Neither of them moved their hands. 

“Ah,” replied Yugi. “Well...I’m sorry for invading your privacy too. And I’m grateful you didn’t ask Bakura to kill me. I hope you don’t mind me saying that you are incredibly hot to watch, though.”

“Mmm, keep talking like that and I’ll be ready for round three.”

Yugi laughed and clasped Ryou’s hand in both of his smaller ones. Ryou wasn’t finished though, and said, “I certainly wouldn’t mind being a voyeur for the two of _you_ , either.” Yugi choked on his next laugh and coughed, releasing the hand to rub his throat. Even more surprising than Ryou’s admission was the absence of an objection from the pharaoh.

“Oh man, I mean, we’re not…” 

“Mm hmm,” hummed Ryou sarcastically, leaning forward until their lips were inches apart. “Would you like to stay for dinner? I have everything I need for Beef Wellington except someone to share it with. My spirit will be out for hours.” He batted his eyes and Yugi battled a fever.

“Sounds delicious?”

“He will be pissed when he wakes up and goes through my head though, so if you want to fool around best get on with it soon after we eat.” Ryou had stood and retrieved a pair of lounge pants from his bottom drawer, giving Yugi quite the eyeful of his own bottom in the process, and Yugi was surprised he didn’t faint. 

Ryou swept his hair into an elegant ponytail and gestured for Yugi to follow him to the kitchen. Yugi obliged him nervously, feeling a curious quirk of an eyebrow and a chuckle from the Spirit of the Puzzle. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You talked me into it. One-shot no longer! Enjoy.

Ryou was an excellent cook. He knew this. He would pursue it professionally if not for the fact that he didn’t want to turn something he loved into a job. No, cooking for his friends was certainly enough, a delight, and seeing Yugi’s face light up with his first bite of the Wellington made it all worth it. He’d been getting better at making puff pastry from scratch too, and was particularly pleased with how that had turned out this time.

Blessed, merciful silence settled into his mind as they ate, with Ryou hearing not even a peep from the sated Spirit of the Ring. He was sure that would invert once he found out about their little stowaway, but he had time to stretch yet.

Yugi tore through the dish with the same voracity he exhibited on the less-couthly-cooked version of bread and beef at Burger World, finishing his last bites with a satisfied sigh and leaning back in the dining chair with his hands folded over his stomach. Ryou wanted to run his thumb over his satisfied smile. 

To say that Yugi and his passenger weren’t on Ryou’s list would be a lie; their attractiveness was striking and regal - it was just that both he and Bakura had been sure they were absolute prudes. The pharaoh’s fiery stare from the recess of the closet negated that thought, of course, but Yugi had seemed self-conscious still, so...maybe the pharaoh was suppressing it on his behalf?

Ryou felt a stir of heat in his lower belly again at the thought. He thanked the spirit silently for the sometimes seemingly inhuman libido he seemed to imbue since the day he’d first been possessed.

“That was delicious, Ryou!” Yugi’s clear, cheerful voice broke through the silence as Ryou stood to gather the dishes.

“Thank you, Yugi. It is rather nice to be able to eat a full plate without having it stolen from me.”

“I take it Bakura likes your cooking too.”

“A little too much. Some days I barely get a bite for myself.”

Yugi giggled. “I suppose running interference with food is better than him punching people out in an alley.”

“Right you are.” Ryou winked and washed his hands, though he was thinking that it was more like ‘better than him _slitting throats_ in an alley’. 

Yugi was standing up from the table to stretch as Ryou made his way over to the couch in the living room, sitting primly in one corner and grabbing the remote. He caught Yugi’s eye as his arm stretched above his head, opposite elbow bent, and fluttered his eyes while patting the spot next to him as he’d done in the bedroom.

Yugi’s semi-persistent blush was back as he froze in the stretch and widened his eyes, shirt hitching just a bit above his beltline to reveal a strip of creamy white skin. Ryou wondered how it would taste. “Come sit,” he said. “Unfortunately, I don’t have all night.”

“Wait, you were serious!?” Yugi lowered his arms.

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“But y...you, you _already_ …”

“I’m insatiable,” Ryou breathed with significant seductive effort. A glint of the _other one_ steamed through Yugi’s eyes for an instant and he looked away toward the wall, appearing lost in thought, but Ryou knew better. “Having a conversation?” he asked, tapping the side of his head with an index finger. 

Yugi blinked heavily and tried to refocus. “Yeah, um, kind of...I think it needs to be a longer conversation than this.” He chewed on his lips as he tiptoed hesitantly over to the couch and sat beside Ryou as he’d beckoned. 

Ryou pressed the power button on the remote; he had no intention of watching anything, but liked the flickering colored light that danced on the furniture when he left it on to fall asleep. The sound was muted. 

Yugi looked at the screen for a moment and then back at Ryou, who licked his lips suggestively and leaned over to rest his chin on Yugi’s shoulder. Ryou inhaled deeply, sweet mint and sakura infusing into his nose as he brushed his lips gently over Yugi’s neck.

The other man inhaled sharply and then held his breath. Ryou thought his own chuckle in response sounded more delighted than it should have when he heard it rise from his throat. He chanced ghosting a hand under his shirt at the waist to touch the skin he’d revealed earlier when Yugi spoke in a rush, “He wants to talk to you!”

Ryou pulled back to look at his face quizzically. “Hm?”

“The pharaoh wants to talk to you.”

“But you’re still here. He asks your permission to switch?”

“Yes…? I mean, most of the time.”

Ryou wrinkled his nose and grumbled, “Must be nice.”

“Ah, anyway…”

“Kiss before you go?” 

Yugi stiffened, but nodded, so Ryou leaned in and pressed their lips chastely together, tickling with his tongue until the other mouth parted slightly, and then ahhh, perfect...he tasted like fresh air and floral and fruit, which should have been impossible after that dinner, really. But just as suddenly as he identified the intoxicating flavors they shifted to something heavier, like desert heat and freshly-tanned leather, and he moaned before he could stop it, because the body he was wrapped around turned soft arms to sinew and his already coronal hair spiked wilder, and suddenly it was the pharaoh’s tongue in his mouth instead of Yugi’s. 

Just as he deepened the kiss by grabbing the back of Ryou’s head and pushing them even closer together, he pulled back and trapped Ryou’s neck in an uncomfortable arch with a strategic pull at the tips of his long white locks. If he was trying to be punitive, though, the pharaoh would find the maneuver would only serve to arouse him faster than anything else, which he communicated with a delicate moan as he bared his neck.

The dark laugh _that_ elicited may as well have come from the Spirit of the Ring. “I have some questions before you get carried away, _sekhat_ ,” he breathed, using his other hand to gently restrain Ryou’s wrists. He didn’t wait for Ryou to affirm or deny the implied request. “I’d like you to tell me about the nature of your little art project in that studio down the hall.”

“Wouldn’t you rather revisit the bedroom, your highness?”

“Your commitment to this deflection is admirable, but I must insist.”

“I have a singular mind when it comes to seducing dark spirits, I suppose.”

“You draw that conclusion with your sample size of one?”

“Two-for-two actually. Regrettably, you banished the other one to the shadows,” Ryou pouted, nudging himself closer.

Realization dawned on him and he released his grip, laughing. “Yugi is incredulous,” he said, cheeks flushed with the effort. “He also retreated because he is nervous that he wouldn’t know what to do.” He trailed a finger along Ryou’s jaw to the tip of his chin and tilted it, kohl-lined lids and violet irises a vision of regal perfection as he gave an unshakable order, “Tell me, and I’ll show a thing or two to both of you.”

Ryou, who was pretty sure he’d had the upper hand until that moment, felt his own skin heat in an instant with a nervous energy he thought he’d banished when he tapped into the true power of the Ring. “Very well,” Ryou said in a haze. “I’m building a diorama for an exhibit my father is putting together with the Ishtars.” His unease grew as he wondered if there was some type of magic at work - could he have been immune before, and had exposed himself by suppressing his spirit?

The pharaoh’s tone shifted, assuming a more monotonous quality. “The thief is a liar, but not you. Care to expound?”

His words flowed more honestly than he intended. “It’s a half-truth. The other half is that Bakura is going to use it against you in a Shadow Game.”

“Why?”

“Revenge, I suppose.”

“I will feel much better when I defeat him if I knew what _for_.”

“I cannot cater to your feelings in that capacity, Pharaoh.” 

The monotone darkened. “It sure sounds like he needs me for this operation, but I fail to see why I need _him_. You made the mistake of telling me that he wouldn’t be around to protect you for a while...what’s stopping me from killing you?”

He rather hoped that Yugi was fuming at _that_ statement. “I would assume mortal danger would change his protective capabilities, but I can’t say I’ve tested the theory.”

The pharaoh relaxed suddenly, eyes cast upward...another conversation, maybe. He leaned back against the opposite corner of the couch and spread his arms out. It was a rather vulnerable position for someone that had just made a death threat. Bakura would be thinking about how quickly he could retrieve the switchblade from under the couch and slip it between his ribs. 

“You’re right of course,” he spoke again, still not making eye contact. “You know my threats are empty. Yugi would never forgive me.”

No moral platitudes? Interesting. “I suppose I’ve discovered your weakness, then.”

“Nonsense. Yugi is my greatest strength, a lighthouse granting me passage through a storm of shadows. I lack the will to forsake him.”

Ryou leaned over, gently pressing their bodies together and bringing his delicate hands up to the pharaoh’s chest. He began gently working the buttons of his shirt open. “On any count?” His hair hung in a curtain on the side of his face, tickling the other man’s cheek and causing his mouth to twitch.

He chuckled but didn’t oppose. “Persistent.”

“And sentimental, remember? I don’t think you’re a man to go back on your word - I told you the truth.” Ryou extended his tongue and laved it up the pharaoh’s jawbone under his ear. A gravelly purr told him that the pharaoh’s resolve was diffusing, _if_ it had been resolve and not Yugi’s hesitation.

“You said he’d be back for mortal peril, but how about mortal pleasure?”

Ryou changed his licking into a few bites, earning him a few high-pressure squeezes from the hands on his waist. “I have more influence over our cohabitation than he thinks I do. If you’re worried, though, you can keep this on your side.” He flipped the knife out from behind his back and it sparkled with the colorful lights of the screen. The pharaoh didn’t flinch, and Ryou had the Bakura-tinged urge to press the blunt edge to his neck anyway.

“I’m not sure a conventional weapon has much of a chance against a Millennium Item.” Nevertheless, he tenderly looped the chain of the Puzzle over his head and set it carefully on an end table behind him. He took the blade from Ryou and snapped it back in place before tossing it into the same spot.

Ryou, out of consideration and as a gesture to solidify their truce, did the same with the Ring. “Depends on how fast you are to slice open a femoral.”

“Ha! You are something else.” 

They didn’t say any other words for several minutes. 

Ryou shrugged off his own shirt and leapt at the other man hungrily, devouring his lips again and pressing as much of their skin together as the angle and unfortunate presence of pants allowed. He was warm, _so_ warm, like the sun on the sands of Egypt, another generous gift from Ra. Bakura, of course, would never indulge his invocation of the pharaoh’s deities, abandoned as he felt by them as the surviving child of a mass murder, but Ryou felt like it was appropriate at the moment. Heat, from real cells burning energy beneath his wandering hands, was in such fierce opposition to the cool, non-corporeal ministrations of the Ring spirit that the comparison seemed inappropriate. As such, he abandoned it. 

The pharaoh slid his fingers under the elastic waistband of his pants, but Ryou reluctantly stopped him. “In a minute; first, I feel terrible that you had to take care of yourselves in the closet, filthy spies, so please allow me.” He licked his lips and started prying belts away from the others’ waistline, digging for his turgid prize beneath the underwear, and then capturing it in his mouth, forgoing any pretense of further teasing to swallow as much of it as his throat allowed. 

“Holy _shit_ ,” Yugi gasped, and he knew it was Yugi because the curse sounded foreign in his voice. Ryou chuckled around his length and bobbed his head. “Unng..oh..oh gods, please switch back or this will be over faster than you like,” he hissed to his partner.

“Good things are meant to be shared,” the pharaoh replied out loud, placing his hands on either side of Ryou’s temples and hitching his hips upward. And wasn’t that a concept? Bakura had been desperately selfish with Marik, which of course had led to Ryou retaliating by being rather reckless with the other one. Still, if that dark spirit had killed him it’d have been a hell of a way to go.

But Ryou could be as selfish as he wanted now, so he deepthroated without a care, the tip of his long tongue reaching out at the base to curl across their balls, and even the pharaoh wasn’t ready for _that_ , because he moaned and threw his head back, cock swelling but miraculously not coming. Ryou continued to slurp his way around the tip, dancing his hands across the shaft, before taking him all the way again and repeating the motion with his tongue, until he felt an insistent tug on the back of his neck. “You spoil me. What can I do for you?”

Ryou wiped the corner of his mouth with his thumb and crawled on top, grinding their cocks together to a strangled growl from the other. “I want to ride you.”

“In what reality is that not also spoiling me?” The pharaoh reached his fingers around the curve of his ass only to arch an eyebrow. “What is this, now?”

“Oh, I slipped that in when you boys weren’t paying attention.”

“Presumptuous.”

“Maybe I just like wearing it.” Ryou reached back around himself and gripped the flared end of the plug, gently tugging it out and mewling at the loss of fullness before tossing the well-lubed instrument onto the floor. He retrieved another bottle of lube from where the knife had been stowed and anointed their cock generously with it, slicking his hand up and down to make sure it was well-coated.

“Very spoiled. I am hardly having to work. If Yugi thinks it’s this easy then next time we will have to start from scratch.”

“Next time? Who’s presumptuous now?” Ryou positioned and impaled himself in one fluid motion and the pharaoh was lost. 

“ _Fuck_...how are you still so tight after all that?” That deep, commanding voice was sweet lyrical syrup in Ryou’s ears and he fantasized about all the dirty things he wanted it to say. The pharaoh rolled his own hips and dug his hands into Ryou’s to guide him, eyes also on Ryou’s heavy shaft that settled between them. 

Ryou was already wordless again, moaning with each thrust, because he was riding another king, and if that didn’t foretell good luck for his future then what would? He grabbed at the spikes of Yugi’s hair, Yugi because his wide-eyed amazement would sift through every few bounces, and then swiveled his hips and squeezed the muscles in his ass when he was sure it was the pharaoh, fingers ghosting along pecs and then nipples, the ecstatic groans thrilling him beyond reckoning. 

At some point the pharaoh decided that he was now in control, and flipped Ryou on the couch so that he was pounding into him from above, sweat glistening on his brow as he worked. At some point, all the rest of the interfering clothing had been discarded, and Ryou couldn’t completely remember the circumstances under which it had disappeared, but wasn’t complaining when he found them completely naked and fucking with abandon on his couch.

He ran a hand up Ryou’s thigh and repositioned them so that his pale ankle hooked vertically up around his shoulder, and Ryou screamed as that hard cock slammed against his prostate. 

“Ah, there we go,” panted the pharaoh, twisting his hips to align with the clearly favorable angle and abusing the gland until Ryou’s shrieks were definitely disturbing the neighbors. He was still mumbling to himself. “Are you paying attention, Yugi?” He wrapped his fist around Ryou’s shaft, more lube having appeared somehow, and started stroking.

Ryou was very happy, of course, to do all the things he’d done up this evening and more...but there were some times, like now, where there was _no_ substitute for getting absolutely fucked, and he could see his skin reddening down his chest and thighs as he vocalized his enjoyment of the pharaoh’s delicious capture of power. He didn’t know what to do with his hands, either, and settled for running them through his own hair to splay it out in a white storm behind his head as his bangs tickled his eyelashes. 

The pharaoh was talking nonsense, then, but it wasn’t _quite_ nonsense, because some of the Ring spirit’s skills had rubbed off on him, and he recognized it as Bakura’s native tongue. “[You are so beautiful, perfect and bright, a blessing from the gods…]” He leaned over further and pressed his lips, then his teeth, to Ryou’s pale and sensitive skin, adding to the marks Bakura had left, and ohhh fuck his spirit was going to be angry when he saw that. But he kept going, and biting, and the execution of it was so fucking hot that Ryou came in the pharaoh’s hand, either his honorific or Yugi’s name on his lips, he couldn’t be sure, but he felt as radiant as he had been told at that moment and indulged in it. 

Only, he was coming, and _coming_ , and surely this was magic, because the pharaoh’s hand was wrapped in a tight circle around his base and no fluid came out. The same feeling of orgasming pulsed through him, the pharaoh telling him to wait, the _same pulse_ , the same waiting, and he lingered in the limbo of complete ecstasy for far longer than he thought was possible, before the man released his hand and Ryou’s essence shot far enough to catch his chin as he arched, clenching on the cock inside him and screaming.

He was panting, breathless, speechless, and if he looked as wrecked as he felt he imagined the pharaoh committing the image to memory, darkened gaze selfish and singular, like Bakura’s was _all the time_ , as he rode out his own orgasm, Ryou’s desperate encouragement fueling his movements as he spilled everything they had into him.

He rounded over on top of Ryou’s body, heart rate declining, and slipped out gently to Ryou’s soft whimper, kissing the corners of his mouth and murmuring more words as they came down slowly. Those may have been in his native language, but Ryou’s mind was on another plane of reality and failed to comprehend them.

The pharaoh pressed his body flush, sweat mingling, and wrapped his arms around Ryou’s body, nose tucked in the crook of his neck and sweet kisses pressing against his jaw. Ryou wrapped his legs around them, deepening the contact and willing sleep to take him so that he could agonize about showering in the morning.

Unfortunately, he felt a tickle of consciousness from the Ring, then, and exhaled in frustration. The angular eyes of the pharaoh’s met his from above, questioningly, but knowing what the response was going to be. 

“As much as I would love for us to shower together, cuddle with you all night, and then make you breakfast, I think it would be prudent for you to depart,” he said reluctantly, pressing his lips to Yugi’s and lamenting their predicament. 

“Are you going to be alright?” came the pharaoh’s concern. 

“I’m very persuasive. Don’t worry about me.”

“We will anyway,” said Yugi, bashfully rising and trying to find his clothing. Ryou was pretty sure he’d donned the wrong shirt, but didn’t correct him as he looked back one last time before exiting the apartment. 

Ryou did basic maintenance in the living room, knife and Ring back where they were supposed to be, and then showered as hot as his pasty skin allowed, water dripping down the gold, the contact from the metal somehow scalding.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mild fluff warning. (Ha.)

After he had showered and gone to bed, Ryou slept hard. The release of tension from three mind-crushing orgasms was more somniferous than he had supposed, because he woke in the middle of his chemistry lab the next afternoon floating in Bakura’s subconscious. 

He was instantly suspicious since Bakura had 1) woken up, 2) gotten to class on time, and 3) was dutifully working through the procedure, measuring various liquids carefully in a graduated cylinder as a stir bar whirred in a beaker on the hot plate beside them. 

‘ _Um...Bakura?’_

‘ _Good morning, Yadonushi. Or, I suppose it’s past noon now, so I should say good afternoon. Did you have a tiring day yesterday?’_

‘ _Can I have my body back, please?’_

‘ _Ohhh, I don’t think so. You clearly can’t be trusted with it._ ’

‘ _It’s mine, so I can do what I want._ ’

‘ _I knew you were a little cockslut after that business with the Other Marik, but this, Yadonushi?’_

‘ _Bakura, please don’t be mad, they only broke in because of the diorama, and…_ ’

‘ _Mad? Who said anything about being mad? You fucked the pharaoh. I’m almost proud. I’m sure his affection for you is something I can use._ ’ Bakura’s toothy smirk looked back at him in the dim reflection on the glass cabinets in front of them.

He _would_ be able to twist it into some kind of advantage, opportunist as he was, but Ryou was pretty keen on a repeat performance with the two spiky-haired duelists and Bakura was going to smart-ass his way to ruining everything. In addition, through their link, even as closed off emotionally as Bakura typically kept it, Ryou could sense a primal kind of anger bubbling at Yami and Yugi’s intrusion into their apartment, the true nature of the diorama they were building, and Ryou’s body.

As if on cue, Bakura spoke again in their minds, ‘ _I_ _n fact, no time like the present to seize the day. Let’s go talk to him_.’

‘ _What? Bakura, no, hold on…_ ’ But he had already dropped the pen he was holding, grabbed their bag, and kicked through the door on the way out of the lab past a very confused-looking teaching assistant. ‘ _Hey! You can’t just leave without cleaning up...or finishing our work!...or…_ ’

‘ _I just want to talk to him_.’

‘ _Oh gods, you’re going to start a fight._ ’

‘ _I j_ _ust want to talk to him_.’ Bakura exited the building into the midday sun.

‘ _Can we please please press pause for a moment and…_ ’

‘ _I just want to talk to him_.’

After several more minutes of Ryou pleading, resulting in the same reply on a loop, the Ring glowed and pointed a traitorous little charm that guided the spirit like a compass to Yugi’s standard permutation of friends who were clustered around Duke Devlin’s DDM Club setup on the quad. Yugi was laughing until he made eye contact with the rapidly-encroaching Ring spirit, and then he blanched. 

‘ _If you hurt Yugi I will throw the Ring in the ocean!’_

‘ _Fucking try it._ ’ “Oh, hey guys!” Bakura said in Ryou’s most bubbly voice.

“Hi Ryou!” said Anzu with a smile. “Care for a game? Duke just released some new cards.”

“Thank you for inviting me, but perhaps another time,” the spirit said politely, and Ryou was so shocked by the acting he forgot to make another threat. “Yugi, may I have a word?” It was kind of surprising Yami hadn’t stepped in, honestly. Maybe Yugi was shooing him away, hoping that things would resolve peacefully. 

“Um...maybe we could catch up later?...on the phone?” The last three words were uttered in a squeak as Ryou felt the spirit’s expression darken. 

“Oh, of course! Let me check my schedule. When is good for you?”

“Maybe I could call in a few hou…”

“Looks like I have now available. How is now for you? I’m thinking _now_.” Bakura lashed his fist out to Yugi’s collar and he squealed as he was lifted into the air and then slammed backwards onto the table, figures and dice scattering onto the brick below. Yugi reached up two hands to his throat but Bakura’s grip was iron. Their audience gasped and stepped back, except for Anzu, who had always defended him.

“Bakura, what the hell!? Get your hands off of him!” 

He ignored her. Ryou couldn’t help but think how lucky he’d been that Joey and Tristan had headed down the street, presumably for more food, as they were approaching. Millennium Item or no, a rogue class against those two tanks wouldn’t hold well in a close-quarters, two-on-one brawl.

“Did you have fun playing around, you little shit? Don’t you know it’s rude to touch other people’s things without permission?” he snarled, brandishing a fist.

Seriously, where was Yami? Maybe he was just as worn out as Ryou, come to think of it. Yugi’s eyes narrowed into a determined, angry look then. “Bakura, that is rude! Ryou is not a thing that you can own!”

Bakura threw his head back and cackled. “Oh you delightful, hot little moron. I disagree, for the record, but that’s also not what I was referring to. That deviation had the same desired effect on Ryou as his tight, sweet body had on me a few hours prior. I’ll have you know that it felt marvelous to steal breakfast and pickpocket some tourists this morning without the constant lawful-good nagging about how it’s _wrong_ , or _immoral_ , or whatever those words mean.”

Yugi looked confused, and then the pharaoh must have found his bearings, because his eyes and hair changed when the Puzzle flashed, and Bakura didn’t even have time to dodge the fierce uppercut that caught him in the jaw. Ryou tasted blood and stars danced in front of their eyes as they reeled backward. He was just close enough to being able to regain control when he hesitated - seeing that righteous rage directed at him...well, at HIM...was so titillating that he couldn’t bear to intervene.

Bakura spat to the side and shed his trench. “You royal fuckstick, I’ll KILL you!” he screamed, lunging for Yami, who twisted away and caught the thief in a headlock. But Bakura and Ryou were taller, and heavier, and in lieu of turning the fight into a shadow duel, Bakura elbowed Yami right in the eye socket; it was sure to be a blue and purple shiner in a few hours.

Joey and Tristan had returned with boxes full of burgers and fries to join the crowd of spectators. “What the fuck?” asked Tristan, watching the fight devolve into a tussle in the patch of dirt under a nearby tree as the pharaoh fought for dominance. “Why are they fighting?”

“Beats me, let me figure out if we should break it up.” Joey paused and cleared his throat, before shouting, “Oi! Are you guys fighting over a girl?”

Bakura turned his head part way to look at them and fluttered his lashes, sweeping his platinum white strands over his shoulder as he sat straddling the pharaoh, the other man’s arms pinned under the weight of Bakura’s legs. “Close enough!” he said in return.

“We’ll let them work it out, then.”

“Are you guys crazy!? Oh my god, I need female friends,” muttered Anzu, dutifully collecting the remnants of Duke’s game pieces from off the ground.

“Get off of me,” the pharaoh commanded, and he was finally able to break away and put some distance between them. 

Bakura snickered, gleam in his eye. “That’s not what your host is going to be saying later.” He paused and tapped his chin. “Well, maybe get off _on_ me.” 

The pharaoh stood up, panting and clutching his shoulder that Ryou vaguely remembered twisting at an awkward angle. He was flooded with guilt, suddenly, at what a mess _Yugi_ was going to be and vowed to make it up to him. To do that, though, the spirit needed to give his body back!

Bakura was still talking. “My original point still stands. Don’t touch my shit. There will be plenty of time for that when I’m defeating you in our final game.” He turned around and looked curiously at the silent crowd. “Well? What the fuck are you all still doing here? Fight’s over, get lost!”

The crowd grumbled and started to dissipate, save for Anzu and Yugi’s other friends. Duke just looked amused. “I don’t think that was about a girl, Joey. It may have been about a boy, though.”

Joey shrugged. “Whatever makes Yugi happy. The other Yugi may want to stop hitting on whoever Bakura is pissed about, though,” he said, not realizing that he’d read the situation pretty well despite Bakura’s insistence that he was only angry about the diorama.

Bakura dusted off the front of his shirt and huffed, while Yami still stood by the tree in a defensive position. “My rage has subsided, Pharaoh. I’d like to talk to your host instead.”

“I think not.”

“Oh, come on. If I say something he doesn’t like you can always take over and attempt to kick my ass, right?”

Ryou watched his purple irises flit back and forth at the top of his eyeline for a moment before the pharaoh narrowed his eyes again. “Yugi and I disagree on the best way to resolve this.”

“Let me guess. Your way involves a futile attempt to best me in a duel or physical altercation, and his way involves some kind of diplomacy.”

“If by ‘physical altercation’, you mean my sending you to the hospital, and by ‘diplomacy’, you mean some sappy interchange of feelings wherein he tries to understand you as a person, then yes.”

“I don’t believe for a moment you would hurt me to that extent, or I wouldn’t have initiated this contact.”

Ryou started. The bastard was already trying to use the great sex against them, and not even for something the spirit particularly cared about - they’d landed in an emergency room before, after all. Predictably, Yami relented. “I suppose you’re right. However, your hold over Ryou will not last forever, Thief.”

“And that leaves…”

Yami sighed and spoke out loud, “This is not a good idea, Aibou.”

* * *

Yugi insisted, really he did, because any alternative would result in both of them with more serious injuries than simple first-aid would heal. He nudged the forming bruise at his eye with the heel of his hand and stepped toward the Ring spirit before Anzu interrupted.

“Uh, Yugi? Do you need any help here?” she asked, stepping in front of Duke and his other friends as if they were going to tear Bakura limb-from-limb at her command. 

He blushed and waved his hand. “N...no, Anzu, that’s alright, just a small disagreement, nothing we can’t work out _between men_ ,” he finished with an edge, clutching the Puzzle and looking for a hint of Ryou in the brown eyes of his assailant. He was disappointed when he saw it, but recognized it as revealing the same giddy amusement as his possessive spirit. 

Bakura put Ryou’s mask back on and linked an arm with him at the elbow. “Quite right! I am so embarrassed for my earlier behavior. Shall we, Yugi?” He smiled, but it was for show.

“We shall!” Yugi said cheerfully, to the dismay of his other friends, practically skipping down the street with Bakura after the thief had scooped his jacket off the ground.

As soon as they were out of eyeshot, Bakura’s smile drooped into a crooked frown as he peered down at Yugi, who smiled up at him, brightly as ever. Suddenly, he jerked them into a storefront, bell clinging at his entry as he dragged the smaller man by the waist. “Follow, runt, or I’ll leave you in a gutter.”

Yugi wondered what kind of game Ryou would want him to play. He was good at games, after all. He wasn’t expecting Bakura to make goo-goo eyes at the pharmacist, though, as he explained that they’d been attacked by bullies and desperately could use some ice packs....oh but their wallets had been stolen! How tragic.

“Oh, thank you again, you’re too kind!” Bakura regarded on his way out, bowing deeply and, as soon as they were outside, chucking some ice at Yugi. “Put this on your stupid face, or your pharaoh will be just as pissed off about that black eye as I am about Ryou’s _love bites,_ ” he snarled, holding the other pack to his jaw. 

“I think Ryou’s form of thievery suits you, Bakura.”

“I’ve learned a few things from Yadonushi, particularly, how to look pathetic when I want something.”

“Oh, is that how he knows when to take you to bed, then?”

Bakura stopped in his tracks and glared at Yugi like he was going to slit his throat. Yugi wondered if he had gone too far when Bakura howled with laughter. “My my, was that still you, little Pharaoh?”

“Oh, that depends...is that still you, Ryou?”

He saw, for an instant, the apparition of his friend smile and wink from within. Bakura’s hand jerked as if he was going to give a thumbs-up, but it fizzled on entry. The thief looked mildly irritated, and then pulled them into an alley. “I am not fucking around here, Yugi,” he said in a rush, pressing him against the brick wall with gentle pressure on his shoulders. Yami was protesting in earnest, now, wanting to clock him again, but Yugi resisted. The thief kept talking. “You see, I feel so very left out of your sordid soiree last night. And you, being the annoying friendship demon you are, would want everyone to feel included, right?”

Yugi clenched his sweaty palm and tried to stare Bakura down, but it was hard with a hand on the cold pack attached to his face. “Ye...yes. Of course. What do you want?” he asked breathlessly, relaxing a bit into Bakura’s grip. 

The thief’s eyes raked his body as he squirmed, and Yugi’s mind sorted through a very long list of extremely sexy things the thief could ask for, then a very long list of ways to apologize to Yami for indulging, before the thief spoke again. “Oh, Ryou appreciates your imagination, but I have something much, much more sinister in mind to torture my landlord and your pharaoh for the rest of the evening.”

* * *

And that’s how Yugi found himself in the second row of a movie theater, one that had those recliner seats and served beer, at the 4:30 PM matinee. Bakura was hoovering through popcorn like it was his only sustenance throughout the entire film, dutifully asking Yugi if he wanted more and retrieving second, and then third, rounds of beverages for them. 

By the time it let out, Yugi had a pleasant buzz and was so full of popcorn and candy that he’d be satisfied to forgo dinner. Committed to the ‘date’, though, Bakura had charmed the girl at the front counter of a swanky sushi restaurant to give them the corner booth and a complimentary bottle of chilled nigori sake. It was sweet, which Yugi appreciated, but the pharaoh wasn’t enjoying himself at all because he was so suspicious. 

‘ _Relax, Yami_ ,’ Yugi reached out for the first time in a few hours. ‘ _Isn’t that what you told me last night? This is nice_.'

‘ _Nice until he stabs us in the back, Yugi! Be careful!’_

Yugi pursed his lips and shuttled another piece of yellowtail through the soy sauce and into his mouth. He licked the corners of his lips and looked up just in time for Bakura to deepthroat a long piece of eel he’d been eyeing for a few minutes, before winking and dabbing his mouth delicately with a napkin. 

He entertained Yugi with some of the stories he still held in his memory from when he was a tomb robber in ancient Egypt, and Yugi was completely captivated. Yugi had tried to draw out more about what his problem was with Yami, to no avail, but he did get him to talk about Ryou, at least. In particular, the bizarre game they had built to annoy the shit out of each other when one or the other had control of their body.

“So. Ryou would be horrified that you went on a real date and enjoyed yourself?”

“Who says I’m enjoying myself?”

“Your body language, words, and literally everything else about your demeanor.”

“I’m a very good actor.”

Yugi shrugged. “Fine by me. Personally, _I’m_ enjoying myself!” he said joyfully, taking a dainty sip of tea and a bite out of his ice cream mochi that had, again, been complimentary thanks to Bakura. “You come here a lot?”

“Often enough to pay my rent by picking up the ass-du-jour for Ryou to enjoy.”

“He seemed um...pretty enthralled by _you_ last night.”

Bakura chuckled even though he probably should have been annoyed. “It’s not quite the same, though, is it?”

‘ _Yugi, I know we have not broached this topic between us yet, but please do_ not _tell him that…_ ’

“No,” Yugi said. “Not quite the same.”

Bakura painted on his most lecherous grin and leaned back in the booth. “Walk me home?” he asked.

* * *

As they approached the Bakuras’ apartment door, Yugi started to get nervous again. He’d convinced Yami that his cooperation was more interesting for the thief, and therefore he should remain in control, but the relaxed, utterly unguarded Bakura beside them was so unlike anything they’d seen before in their duels or elsewhere that it made them apprehensive.

They walked down the final hall when Yugi finally cleared his throat. “So. You’re not, um...angry with Ryou for yesterday?”

Bakura shrugged. “Of course I am, for the part about revealing my extremely cool plan to kill the pharaoh. It’s not like I can punish him either, because that kinky little nympho gets a thrill out of being cuffed to a wall and berated.”

Yugi blinked as the pharaoh’s spark of desire coursed through him. Bakura swiveled just short of placing his hand on the doorknob and dipped down to Yugi’s lips. He gulped, and then his words were not his own. “Go on. I’m taking mental notes.”

Bakura howled with laughter. “Ohhh, Ryou will be so happy to hear that. He’s already deliciously annoyed that I got to go on a date instead of him and he’s going to love this part.” He closed the distance between their lips and Yugi gasped in shock, allowing Bakura’s tongue to ravage his mouth. Yami recoiled, which for some reason made the experience even more enjoyable. 

He drew away, trailing a thin strand of saliva, and brought a pale hand up to Yugi’s cheek. It was at that moment that he realized the differences between the two; treebark eyes but more intense, long, silver hair but more wild, ferocious grin but...no, no, that was the same. Bakura had found the perfect host. He wondered if Yami could say the same. 

“Goodnight, little Pharaoh,” he said sweetly, finishing with one more peck on the lips and then tucking himself inside the door with a faint ‘click’ before engaging the deadbolt. Yugi stood there, stunned.

‘ _Thank the gods that’s over,_ ’ grumbled Yami from the Puzzle, and if a spirit could brood that’s certainly what he was doing. Yugi thought that was a little unfair - sure, he’d been backseat driving yesterday, but the Ring spirit had gotten him suitably tipsy and left him on the porch. Just as he was about to argue with his other self, the door swung back open. 

“Ha, just kidding asshole, I’m not that good of a person. I bought you dinner, get in here and suck my dick.” 

“Wha…?” He felt his entire body pulled inside, and when the door slammed his form was flush against the door too, moulding itself completely unconsciously with no input from Yugi whatsoever against the flesh that had captured him, lips and all, in a heartstopping embrace that continued long enough for unimportant clothing to be discarded at the entryway. 

Yugi, having become quite familiar with precisely where the couch was, pushed Bakura back onto it and jumped on him, grinding his hips while placing soft, tentative kisses on Bakura’s jaw and neck. He tugged at the boxers that separated him from what Bakura had asked for and reached out to the spirit against his better judgment. 

‘ _What now?_ ’

‘ _No. No way. Leave, now._ ’

‘ _Oh come on, maybe he’ll tell us more about how he wants to murder us, and then…_ ’ Yugi gasped as he was interrupted by a firm curl of fingers at his jaw, breaking their kiss. Bakura stared straight into him, mouth having settled into a thin line and hair settling softly about his shoulders. 

“Not you,” he said, pulling Yugi into his lap, and he tried not to blush, really he did, but he hoped the dim light concealed it. “Not you, or your idiot friends. Just him. If you stay out of it, no harm will come to you.”

Yugi felt a shock of shame emanate from the Puzzle. ‘ _Aibou, I knew this...I have put you in more danger by bringing you and your circle into my conflict._ ’ 

“And what about Ryou?” Yugi asked, ignoring his internal strife. “What happens to him?”

Bakura’s look softened. “Once I win, he’ll be rid of me.”

Yugi arched his hips against the thief’s. “And once he’s rid of you, how do we get you back?”

“And why would a pretty thing like you worry about that?”

“He likes you. I think I do, too. Let us help you,” pleaded Yugi against the thief’s ear, slipping his hand up the leg of Bakura’s boxers to grab his shaft, already hard from all the talk about shadow duels and dying. He moaned through a dirty chuckle. 

“I’m afraid the only way to save me is by wrapping your lips around my cock and sucking as if your life depended on it.”

‘ _Well, if_ you’re _not going to give me instructions, mou hitori no boku, I’ll just listen to him_.’ Yami was silent for a moment and then he could almost _feel_ the smirk. 

‘ _You have to learn sometime, I suppose. It’s good advice; but don’t be shy about your tongue, and make sure your teeth are sheathed in your lips. Also, I oppose this in every conceivable way except wrenching bodily control._ ’ He could almost feel the caress from the spirit on his pout, and shivered at the thought. 

He knelt on the ground at the foot of the couch and pried Bakura’s erection from his boxers, precum already glistening at the tip, and situated himself to do what he’d been too shy to participate in the night before. Leaning forward, he captured the head in his mouth and sucked tentatively, and the moan and buck that earned him was so _fucking_ hot he almost came on his own time. It was salty, and sweet?, and full, such that his lips could barely encase it, and then with a tug on the back of his head it was sliding down his throat.

They hadn’t done _this_ last night, so he had nothing to follow but both of their suggestions, applying suction and darting his tongue out from time to time while avoiding teeth. I mean, he’d definitely watched enough porn to know that teeth were a bad idea, unless the guy was into that. Was Bakura into that? How does someone even go about asking that question? Did lovers have meetings before they got down to it?

His unanswered questions aside (from a deity who no doubt got exactly what he wanted the vast majority of the time), he was very much enjoying slurping a dick into his throat, and gripped Bakura’s thighs as his fingers danced on the sensitive skin of the junction between his leg and his groin. It was just another game, right? And his hands and mouth were the pawns, while his mind recited the spells. 

“Fuck, Yugi…” He loved the way his name sounded in that voice. “What did he teach you in there? If he was as good at running a country as you are at blowjobs this millennia-long conflict may have been easier to resolve.” Bakura hitched down his throat and tangled his hands in the maroon spikes of his hair, moaning with abandon and obviously very close. He was awfully confident that the pharaoh wouldn’t emerge and bite him, though...if Ryou had told the Ring spirit the truth, he knew he was safe.

And had the thief ever felt safe? Safe enough to let someone be intimate with him? The brothels he visited almost certainly excepted, had he ever felt what it was like to fall asleep in a lover’s arms? Yugi couldn’t claim that he knew what the felt like either, but...the times that Yami had sensed his stress and stayed up with him talking, laughing...it had to be something like that, right? Only with blowjobs beforehand. That reminded him of something. 

He detached himself from Bakura’s cock with a soft plop and looked up at him with innocent eyes. Like Ryou had been the night prior, Bakura in the throes of arousal was an absolute vision - muscle glinting with the same dark power as the Ring at his chest, pupils blown out, and lips full. 

“Why are you stopping? You’re a fucking prodigy. Keep going.”

“I just thought you could tell me how to do the spirit thing.”

‘ _Aibou…_ ’

“The...what? You mean being physically there? I thought you knew how it wasn’t the same.” He pushed at Yugi’s neck to guide him back to where he wanted. He struggled. 

“Of course, and it’s so easy for _him_ ,” he lied, “but he said it’s hard to explain. I thought maybe you and Ryou had some insight?”

“Make me come and I’ll tell you.”

“Oh, a hard bargain.” Yugi went back to work. Bakura’s cock was already so swollen and dripping by that point that even his verbal detour hadn’t affected it. As he dragged his tongue on the underside, he felt the muscles beneath him jerk. Bakura tried to evoke a verbal warning, but it must have snuck up on him, because just as he groaned that he was coming a hot, thick liquid filled Yugi’s mouth, and instead of recoiling by instinct he swallowed and licked his lips. 

“Fucking hell,” he panted, pulling the smaller man back into his lap, tucking his cock away and nuzzling Yugi’s face tenderly. “Pharaoh must really be offline today. You do that same shit to him?” His face was already showing signs of fatigue, and Yugi wondered if the post-orgasmic peace Ryou had been so fond of extended to his physical control as well. 

“It does,” those pink lips uttered, winking again, and then the Ring pulsed and it was just him and Ryou on the couch. 

“Hi,” he said, bummed that he hadn’t gleaned the secrets of ghost manifestations before the bigger Bakura had passed out. 

“He’ll try to tell you, later,” Ryou said nonchalantly. “He really did seem like he was going to. And didn’t suspect at all that you were lying about your experience.” He shifted and wrapped his arms around Yugi, drawing them closer. “You’re so hot when you work. A pleasure to watch.” His pale skin colored prettily as he squatted them both into a standing position and headed towards his bedroom.

“Um,” said Yugi, wrapping his legs around Ryou’s pale waist for support.

“I can feel what you want. We’ll have to save another lubricated adventure for the morning, though, because I am quite fatigued myself.”

“It’s fine, you don’t have to…”

“But I’ve been told my hands are my best feature.”

Yami and Yugi together were startled. This angel, with flowing white hair, alabaster skin, and piercing eyes, was told his _hands_ were his best feature?

As he brought them to the brink of ecstasy, sending them off the cliff with careful regard, they believed it. 

This time, Yugi dozed in Ryou’s arms as they drifted off to sleep together under the box-stitched down, slightly less worried that either spirit would possess them and kill the other one.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one’s for all the Puzzleshippers out there. When you want more fic, you get more feels, and at least a thin shell of plot. Is it a plot that sucking great dick may save the world?

Bakura had, miraculously true to his word, given Yugi some good advice about haunting the next morning, co-opting Ryou just before he was finished cooking to mow down an intimidating stack of pancakes drenched in butter and syrup. Yugi thought his table manners could use some work, but his fascination with Ryou’s taste in movies had turned out to be the key.

“I mean, poltergeists and shit are always clanging around at night to freak people out right, so they can definitely touch stuff. So I just thought about how I wanted to scare the crap out of Yadonushi and BAM!” He slammed the table, causing the dishes and flatware to rattle as Yugi stabilized his glass of orange juice. “I knocked over a lamp in the middle of the night and he screamed like a biiiiiitch,” Bakura chortled, now halfway through the large pile of bacon that was meant to be shared. Though, now that Yugi thought about it, he’d never seen Ryou eat pork...maybe he’d cooked it especially for the spirit. “Anyway, I worked on that for a while, breaking more and more of his lamps and plates and whatever, until I’d riled him up so delectably he tossed the Ring out the window. His face was so red when I made my way back, you know how he gets!”

Yugi giggled and rubbed his eye, now encircled by a blackening ring.

Bakura said, through a mouthful of bacon, “Fucking what’s funny?”

“You get that way too.” 

“Feh. Any lingering embarrassing physiological responses I blame wholly on Yadonushi.”

“You’re getting that way right now.” And it was true - Yugi saw the blush creep from his cheekbones toward his ears, a rosy highlighter above that pouty scowl. “You should take Ryou on a date.”

“Why?...Oh right, he’s a sap. All the dating he did to coax boys into bed was an inefficiency in our scheming that I solved, quite creatively I might add, with my newly-solid ghostly appendages.” The cackle was back as the last slice of meat made its way from his fingers to his mouth. If the pain in his jaw from the day before bothered him, he didn’t show it.

“Where was this attitude about ‘efficiency’ when you were ‘scheming’ with Marik?” 

Yugi jumped and turned around, noticing just now that Ryou’s spirit form had materialized behind him, arms folded and eyebrow raised, a devious smirk playing at his ghostly lips.

“Oh hello dear landlord, are you gracing us with your presence for a little demonstration?”

“You know, I was very happy to let you two have some alone time, but you are spoiling it with your...dishonesty.” The last word was whispered directly next to Yugi’s ear and he gulped when a cool breeze tickled his neck. 

“Marik was different! He was in on the schemes! Plus, it’s not like he wined and dined us or vice versa, that minx was ready to take us in that back alley within five minutes of my original proposition.”

“You _liked_ him, admit it! You wanted to hold his hand, and rent a couples’ paddleboat out on the lake!”

“I _liked_ his pretty purple eyes and tight, caramel-colored ass, and, OH YEAH, the goddam Millennium Rod he was using to mind fuck all of Yugi’s friends.”

“Uh, guys, I’m still here…” Yugi said meekly, cowering a little as Ryou phased into the table to lean over and tease his possessor. 

He continued, amused tone taking on a layer of righteous irritation, “And yet, instead of strategizing for your duels, or, you know, getting proper medical care for the gaping stab wound in our arm, you were a sweaty sticky mess at every interlude while I was locked away. And I had to clean up after you!”

“You had plenty of time too, that guy slept like a rock after I was through with him.”

“No, he didn’t.”

Silence. Yugi darted his eyes nervously and quietly slid out of his chair onto the floor to start crawling toward his bag at the entryway.

Bakura was still completely focused on Ryou’s glowing, faux-innocent smile now inches from his face. “Hmph. Your idiotic indulgence of the insane one nearly got us killed.”

“I can’t help that I like being choked!”

‘ _Updating mental notes,_ ’ said Yami. After such a long period of non-communication, wanting nothing to do with the Ring spirit, the sudden burst of amusement in Yugi’s mind was surprising. He had just retrieved his winter peacoat from its hook and slipped an arm into the right sleeve.

‘ _I_ _think they have some stuff they need to work out, mou hitori no boku._ ’

‘ _I think we do too._ ’

Yugi cringed outwardly, though he couldn’t help but agree. They’d both lost track of the argument at this point, though Yugi had just noticed with concern the acrid smell of smoke that indicated something was burning.

Before he could react, though, the cast iron pan full of bacon grease on the stove burst into flames with a loud _fwoop_ and rocketed an inferno toward the ceiling. Ryou, having been a spirit, hadn’t smelled anything due to not being able to smell anything, and gasped. “Oh dear, I must have left the stove on…” Bakura’s impatience for breakfast must have forced a switch too early for Ryou to turn the knob fully to the off position. A few pops and the fire had leapt onto the counter in burning puddles.

Yugi saw Ryou’s eyes flood with worry, but he wasn’t looking at the fire - he was looking at Bakura. Who was frozen, flames licking his lids from the reflection in his eyes. If Yugi didn’t know better, he’d say the man was stricken with terror. It wasn’t an expression he’d ever seen on either of their faces and his brain was short-circuiting trying to process the dissonance when Ryou’s voice got through to him. “Yugi? Bakura is having some trouble and can’t switch with me. Can you turn off the heat and get the class B extinguisher from under the sink?” he endeared calmly. 

Now full of adrenaline, Yugi dropped the bag and jacket and rushed to the stove, shielding his eyes and twisting the knob until the gas popped off. He turned around and reached into the cabinet, removed the device, (“Yes, the white one!” he vaguely heard Ryou say), and pulled the pin, pointing it into the pan and pressing the lever gently as a cloud of white enveloped the flames. He snaked the stream to and fro until the flames were gone; the whole thing was over in probably fifteen seconds. 

‘ _Aibou, are you alright?’_ Yami asked.

‘ _I’m fine! I’m just glad Ryou cooks so much and knew what to do._ ’ He wiped his brow and set the extinguisher on the counter next to the burnt pan. He glanced up at the other two and panicked all over again - Bakura was sitting on the floor, curled into a ball, with his hands over his ears and eyes squeezed shut, hyperventilating. Ryou’s arm was stroking his back, but his fingers were wafting right through the cloth of his shirt.

Yugi rushed over and came to his knees on the floor beside the distressed spirit, wrapping his arms around his shoulders and tucking his chin into Bakura’s neck. “Breathe, slow down, the fire is gone okay? It can’t hurt you.”

“They’ll find me,” hissed Bakura, tension still wound tightly into the muscle beneath Yugi’s fingers. 

“Then go hide,” Yugi whispered. Bakura opened his eyes for one, fearful moment, before they rolled back into his head and he fell backward. Yugi was still supporting his body, so he didn’t go far, and Ryou behind him made a choking sound before being pulled back into the Ring. It was his classmate’s eyes that finally peeled open.

“Ugh. I wonder why the fire alarm didn’t go off,” Ryou said groggily, sitting up on his own accord. Yugi’s arms were still wrapped around him in an embrace, so he returned it. “Mmm, still so warm.” He inhaled deeply and pressed a kiss to Yugi’s exposed cheek, making him blush. “Thank you for saving the apartment complex, Yugi.”

Yugi sat back on the heels of his hands and sighed. “Don’t mention it...and, I mean I know that was scary, I am wired right now, but Bakura seemed a little more...upset...by it than normal. Why was he so afraid?”

“Don’t ever let him hear you say that. And Yugi, I know it is hard to understand, but I can’t tell you the answer.”

“Why not?

“He asked me not to talk about it. He’d still be hiding from me as well if we weren’t forced by circumstance to share so much.”

“How did he help me with the Puzzle when I was in that fire before Battle City, then? Or was that you?”

Ryou got an intense look on his face, like he was trying to solve a complex problem without anywhere to write down his steps, before shrugging. “I can’t explain _that_ to you either.”

“Can’t, or won’t?”

“It would betray another confidence.”

Yugi considered for another few moments and didn’t press. “I’m really worried about him, but if I asked you to keep a secret, I’d hope I could trust you.”

‘ _If his reaction is relevant to our predicament with the god cards or the Shadow Duel he is conspiring to arrange, then I disagree that concealing the truth from us is the right choice, no matter the agreement Ryou made_ ,’ Yami communicated, hidden from Ryou’s ears.

Yugi wasn’t so sure; if you couldn’t establish a trust with another consciousness living inside your body, then how long would peaceful coexistence be possible? “Our lives are kind of complicated, huh?” he said to Ryou, after an awkwardly long pause.

* * *

As much as Yugi would have loved to spend all weekend on the couch with either of the white-haired thieves (platonically or not), they’d all been neglecting errands and Saturday was the perfect opportunity. By the time he and Yami had finally collapsed back at the game shop, groceries had been replenished, packages had been mailed, and Sugoroku was merrily dancing about, setting up new displays.

Yami, as always, had courteously offered to do most of the heavy lifting, but had otherwise been conspicuously silent. Whether he was agonizing about their brief glimpse into Bakura’s traumatic past or other...recent events...was unclear, since he’d closed off their emotional link as well.

To say the Spirit of the Puzzle meant a lot to him would be an understatement, but to say he’d considered a _physical_ component to their relationship before the hand was literally in his pants, so to speak, would be a lie. They had always been cautiously distant when it came to privacy, and Yami had never intruded. It wasn’t until the shockwave of lust from their (very inappropriate) spying activity had tangled into their minds simultaneously that Yugi had even considered any of them sexual beings...well, okay, maybe he had checked out Kaiba’s ass once or twice, being practically eye-level with it and all (when he wasn’t wearing that ridiculous coat), but that was neither here nor there.

When the silence in their room stretched to the point where Yugi had showered and crawled into his bed below the skylight, he couldn’t take it anymore.

‘ _Yami, you’ve been awfully quiet for someone who told me he wanted to talk_.’ He felt a flit of indignation across their link and laughed despite himself. 

‘ _We were busy._ ’

‘ _And now we’re not! Want to do this the emotional way or the Ryou way? For either it would be easier if you came out, though_.’

Yami’s spirit, eyebrow quirk and all, coalesced on the end of the bed, so Yugi swung his legs over the side to sit next to him. “What is ‘The Ryou Way’?” Yami asked.

“I throw myself at you and you give in after pulling my hair.”

His eyes heated in an instant, but it was a controlled burn. “Is that something you would enjoy?”

Yugi imagined the spirit’s fingers raking along his scalp and tugging sharply at the root, suddenly wishing he’d worn something more substantial than boxers to bed. He fidgeted with the edge of his white cotton shirt and tried to find an uninteresting spot on the wall to look at instead of maintaining eye contact. “I, uh...think I might, actually.”

Yami had drifted closer to him, ghostly hand hovering on the back of his neck at the base of his skull, and Yugi shivered as he felt two fingers slide up to his hairline. “It is difficult for me to think about scaring you, Aibou,” he whispered into Yugi’s ear, placing a soft kiss where the lobe curved into the skin. “I would rather induce pleasant feelings.”

The physical touch started fading, replaced with a cool mist. Yami grunted in frustration. “It is also energetically taxing. I will have to practice.”

Yugi whimpered at the loss of sensation. “Maybe I could try?”

“I would imagine that it is easier for the literal ghost, Yugi.” He passed a thumb over the ridge of Yugi’s cheekbone where the bruise from Bakura’s elbow had really started to settle in. “This is my fault. I’m sorry.”

Yugi laughed to dispel the tension. “You don’t have to apologize. Bakura started it. I can’t for the life of me figure out how Ryou makes all those bruises look sexy though. He was rubbing on it like a badge of honor, and the rest, well…” He paused at noticing the dreamy grin on Yami’s face. “You like him.”

Yami broke his reverie and snapped back to him. “Well _of course_ , you’re looking at him with the same eyes as me, are you not? He is ethereal. If there were men like that in my harem I’m certain I’d have never left the palace.”

No argument there. “I mean, I don’t want to get in the way of you and Ryou or anything. Or anyone else. It’s not just me in here, you get to have a life too.”

He scowled. “Dismiss that notion from your head, Aibou. I appreciate the thought, but I wouldn’t consider for a moment indulging in anything without your enthusiastic involvement. Don’t trouble yourself with the reverse, though...this is your body first.”

He was taken aback, a bit. “And what about, well...me? On my own?…I mean, I look nothing like Ryou, but if...”

“And I am also a bit of a narcissist.” The room darkened somewhat, and even the moonlight from above seemed dimmer as the shadows curved unnaturally around the Millennium Puzzle at Yugi’s neck. “My hair and eyes were unusual, a ‘blessing from the gods’, the priests told me.” He pushed at Yugi’s shoulders gently until he fell back onto the pillows. “I would be a fool not to delight in someone who looks like _you_ underneath me begging for release.”

 _Welp_ , _halfway there_ , Yugi thought as the pharaoh straddled him from above, facsimile of the Puzzle dangling its menacing apex at his throat. Yami trailed his index down the real one, but he kept going past the end, lighting a fire all the way down to where he dipped into Yugi’s bellybutton. Maybe he should have worn a thicker shirt, because the sensation was nearly too intense for him to regulate his breathing and he was seconds from pleading just like the spirit wanted him to.

“Again, it is not as if I remember much from my time as Pharaoh. Some skills seem more...preserved than others, though.” He cupped the Puzzle again and grinned. “What about this? Ryou didn’t mention a soul room in the Ring but we’ve communicated in here before.”

Yugi swallowed, now so hard he could barely think. “Bakura did say something about…” he gasped at the connection of the spirit’s cool lips with his neck, “ung...chaining him up...probably not in his apartment…”

The next statement came at his ear again. “What do you say we work on this poltergeist nonsense later, then?”

* * *

The soul room was always a little hazy, like a dream, but the blurred edges of Yami’s eyes alight with desire didn’t make the moment any less exceptional. He had pulled them exactly where they needed to be, in a mountain of plush cushions surrounded by precious metal, tapestries, and flickering candles. Ryou would think it was romantic - Yugi wondered if they could bring him here.

His lurid fantasy of Yami in a king’s regalia returned, but he did a poor job of concealing it this time, and a deep chuckle vibrated into his skin where the spirit had reattached to his throat, picking up where he left off. “Interesting. Would you like me to conjure a throne room as well?”

Yugi moaned and arched up into him, now connecting with real flesh and earning an equally endearing sound of approval from the pharaoh.

With a flourish, the garments appeared around him, fluidly replacing whatever he’d been wearing before, now forgotten. As he pulled back he cradled Yugi’s face in both palms and looked into his eyes - gods even his _eyes_ were different, glowing almost ruby instead of purple, heavily lined with kohl and just as intimidating as they were beautiful. To have _that_ look directed at him, by _this man_ , was so enchanting that Yugi almost forgot what they were doing. 

The reality of it came crashing back, though, as the pharaoh’s lips descended on his, commanding the kiss from the top down, employing the same sultry confidence with which he dominated his duels.

Yugi tangled his hands in the silk and pressed them closer together, tongue engaged in a duel of its own, deepening the contact until they were nearly one entity undulating on the velvet and carpet below. Which, Yugi noticed, wasn’t too far off from their actual circumstances. The spirit did spend his entire existence inside him, after all, which sounded lewd of course but the reality of it was already frighteningly intimate on its own without the sex. 

The pharaoh was making frustrated sounds as he pulled away the rest of Yugi’s clothes and clasped a firm hand around his aching cock, pulling skin at the base gently taut as he curled his wrist at the top of each stroke. It felt so satisfyingly similar to what he’d done with their physical body in Ryou’s closet that the memory flooded him with another layer of arousal. Still though, he was _naked_ , in front of his other self, and it’s not like they’d never showered but this was very, very different. 

Yami must be able to hear _everything_ here, because he picked up on his thoughts again. “Which one did you want to be?” he whispered sensually once his mouth had made its way down his torso to kiss his hip bones. Yugi whimpered, jutting his hips upward into the contact with Yami’s hand, before his tongue curved into the junction between his torso and thighs. 

He hadn’t really processed the question. “Which one...where? Oh gods, don’t stop…” 

The tip of his tongue trailed a long lick from his base to his tip and the pharaoh murmured again, “My position, or Ryou’s?” 

Oh. _Ohhh._ It was an echo of what Yugi had asked him earlier, but with _much_ different implications. Any permutation at all with their bodies naked really, or as was the case right now, Yami himself draped in finery like a god. Just keep touching…wait what? He stared at the pharaoh wide-eyed, blushing like it was his first kiss, kind of embarrassed that he hadn’t really thought about it (having shared in Yami’s end of the fun in their earlier activities). He sort of wished the pharaoh would just command it.

He chuckled, and Yugi realized he’d forgotten about the unintentional telepathy again. The dark baritone of Yami’s voice took on a noble air when he replied, “If you want to be ordered then I’ll take a guess. Spread your legs.” 

Yugi did so eagerly, groaning at the loss of contact as the pharaoh moved away for a moment. “But wha...what about you? I could do, with my mouth, what I practiced with Bakura…”

“Oh, you’re going to take care of me, Yugi. Just not in that way - at least not today.” He smirked and plunged his somehow-slick right ring finger inside, twisting it as he went, and Yugi squirmed. I mean, it felt a little bit odd, the hole wasn’t made for that, right? But it’s not like his mouth was ‘made’ for sucking someone off either and yet that was extremely fun, so…

His train of thought was interrupted by the addition of a middle finger, which Yami pushed forward up to his knuckle, before curving his fingertips to drag across his prostate on the way out. Yugi screamed and pressed into the sensation, seeing stars, certainly understanding Ryou’s enthusiasm now that he’d felt it. Suddenly the thought of being filled in that way, while the hand that was stroking him continued its work, felt like a way to get a two-for-one deal.

After a moment and an eternity of deliriously pleasurable torment inflicted by Yami’s skillful hands, the pharaoh pulled his shendyt aside and lifted Yugi’s hips into alignment with what was underneath. Yugi gripped the plush under his hands and shut his eyes…

“Breathe, Aibou, let me work for you.”

He tried to exhale slowly as he felt something much larger and heavier than fingers pry past his entrance, stretching him, but by this point the intrusion was welcome, craved even. He moaned and rolled his hips like Ryou had, eliciting a hiss of pleasure from the man above him, who increased the pace of both his thrusts and his hand on hot flesh as they both climbed.

Yami was hunched over him now, dream-sweat glinting in rivulets down the side of his neck and Yugi grabbed his jaw, licking along the pulse point and moaning into his throat. He started whispering those sensuous endearments again, Yugi not understanding the words but feeling their intent... _so tight...exquisite...divine_. He shivered and hitched upward. With each hot drag across all those pleasurable nerves he felt the overwhelming urge to finish.

“Ask for it,” the spirit demanded.

“Wh...wha..?” Yugi panted, desperate for motion, but Yami had paused his rhythmic stroking and Yugi was certain this was torture because he was going to die.

“I said I wanted you to beg. I wasn’t bluffing.”

 _Oh my..._ Yugi was so desperate, the edge was almost painful, he obeyed without question. “Ple...please,” he whispered, trying to move toward him, but he was pinned by the weight of the larger man above him and could only struggle. 

“Better. And by that, I mean _you can do better_.”

“ _Please, Pharaoh…_ ”

“ _What do you want?_ ” 

“ _I_ _wan...want to come, please,_ please _, fuck me, I have to…_ ”

“As you wish.” He resumed with fervor, twisting Yugi onto his side and craning his hips to strike at a different angle, and Yugi was lost. Despite appearing to be two separate beings in the soul room, the blur between the individuality here and the shared experience of another partner wound a feedback loop that had Yugi hovering in orgasmic bliss with Yami. The limbo dissolved when something snapped and his whole body contracted, erupting white threads of come onto his stomach as a similar heat pooled inside him. They must have screamed, because his throat was hoarse and the sound lingered in the quiet room.

Their breath, frantic but synchronized, gradually tapered until they came down. Yugi dislodged himself from the pharaoh’s neck and the other man trailed kisses up his jaw, still lavishing what felt like praise in a foreign language, and Yugi couldn’t help muttering, “Why the _hell_ haven’t we been doing this in here the whole time.” He’d been fucked beyond rational thought and hadn’t even gotten the spirit out of his clothes. He wondered if he should dress up too, and what Yami would like...

Yami laughed amusedly but had lost his words, the now-familiar energy drain of the activity sapping his strength. He pulled out slowly and laid beside Yugi, dragging fingers down his hip before wrapping around his pale waist into an embrace. He buried his face behind his neck and Yugi leaned into it, enveloped in warmth. 

* * *

He woke to a late-morning sun beaming through the skylight. It hurt his head; the newness and heaviness at how good he had felt the night before left a kind of aching hangover through his limbs and more sensitive areas. He gripped himself through his boxers, discovering a pooling of cold fluid, uncomfortable and sticky - well, that answered that question; whatever they got to in the Puzzle didn’t insulate them completely from their physical body.

Yami was either silent or still dormant, and Yugi felt with a pang that he couldn’t recall the entire order of events throughout their evening - hangover indeed. They knew from Yami’s persistent amnesia that the Puzzle was designed, somehow, to trap and conceal memories, but this?

Whether the soul room version compared to the spirit version remained to be seen, but if his fading recollection was any indication, then Bakura had been right on their date - it wasn’t quite the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will get on this ship and sail away. I blame all of you for egging me on for this fic, such that I found myself at 3AM googling ‘types of ghosts’ and ’how to safely put out grease fires’. Now my fics are both educational AND smut!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Light BDSM warning.

Ryou came to with a brush of frigid wind at his cheek. The last thing he remembered was scrubbing the kitchen of char and leftover fire suppressant after a dinner of takeout ramen, as he had been loath to attempt cooking again. Bakura had been silent, but not in the good way, and Ryou had figured it was only a matter of time before he whisked away control of their body and went on a bender. 

Which he supposed was a good explanation for why he regained consciousness here, on a park bench at the outskirts of the city, at sunrise. Gold and turquoise light had just started to peek over the horizon of the...lake? Were they at _that_ park? Why?

He groaned and blinked the sleep from his eyes, before he noticed an insulated paper cup and a cardboard clamshell on the bench next to him. A thin snake of white steam still rose from the small opening in the lid of the beverage, and his nostrils flared upon inhale with the heavenly aroma of chocolate and fresh pastry. He certainly didn’t _feel_ still drunk, or hungover, or any of the negative physiological responses he expected after one of Bakura’s ‘outings’; he was well-rested, energetic even.

Before the moment passed, he took a generous bite of the crepe in the box...strawberries and whipped cream...and then a body-warming swallow of the hot cocoa - the burn of peppermint tingled his throat on the way down and he arched an eyebrow. 

“I schnapps’d it,” said the spirit who had appeared beside him, looking quite satisfied with himself. His face, framed by the shock of hair that was whiter and wilder than Ryou’s, was angelic in the early morning light even though the man it was attached to was anything but. “Right interior pocket if you want it spicier.”

Ryou giggled as the warmth flooded his body, curling in on himself in the winter jacket Bakura had dressed them in and tugging on the black wool hat to re-cover his ears. His breath puffed out in front of his mouth in tiny clouds. “It’s a beautiful morning for boozy chocolate and a delicious crepe, albeit a little chilly for coming to the lake, wouldn’t you say?”

“I’d have added another layer if I’d remembered dumb details like ‘it’s winter’.” He paused, shifting a little uncomfortably in the mirror image of their attire. “So I got the right one?”

“The right…?”

“Breakfast thing. You eat sugary shit all day so it’s hard to keep everything straight, it’s all dessert to me.”

“Oh, the strawberry one? Yes, it’s my favorite! I can’t believe you remembered.”

“You’d think the recall would be a little easier since we share a brain.”

Ryou shrugged. “I’m not so sure. There is barely any crosstalk unless we’re both asleep.” He caught some of the whipped cream that had escaped the folds of the pastry with his thumb and lapped at it with his tongue. 

“You can see my dreams?” Bakura asked, carefully unemotional. 

Ryou was stunned that he’d given the thief a perfect opening for a joke about sucking cream off his finger and he hadn’t taken it. He must be in a genuinely serious mood, then. He finally replied, “I can see them as clearly as when the memory formed. Every scream. Every drop of blood. Their suffering, and yours, is tangible and frightening to me.”

Bakura deflected, “You lied to your friend. I haven’t told you shit.”

“Ah...I wasn’t sure you had caught that. I wish you would, though. A true accomplice could help you better than what I am now...just a gamer with a warm body.”

“It’s a _great_ body though,” he grinned, rubbing his thumbs in circles where his nipples would be under the jacket. Ryou laughed as Bakura stretched his legs out into the grass. “I couldn’t help but notice that despite your trespass into my thoughts...that you didn’t tell them anything.”

Ryou emptied the contents of the flask Bakura had indicated into the rest of the cocoa and took another sip. It was a statement of fact, but he supposed it was the closest he had ever come to a ‘thank you’ out of the man. “Of course not. It’s not my story to tell.” He went silent and looked around; the sun was fully above the water now and on its ascent into the sky, and a few joggers had appeared on the trail below their perch on the hilltop. “Bakura, why are we here at six in the morning?” he asked, having been previously distracted from that particularly obvious question by food.

Bakura scrunched his face and folded his arms, looking up and away from Ryou. “I think it’s understandable that I have a few problems with temporal awareness. I thought this was the lake where they have those stupid boats.” He gestured toward the short pier with a small wooden shack close to the shoreline.

Ryou’s eyes widened in shock. “You...you mean the paddle boats?” He let hope and a smile infiltrate his expression. “Is this a date?”

“I only figured that you were projecting some absurd fantasy of _yours_ onto me when you were chastising me about Marik yesterday. It didn’t occur to me that it might be a seasonal activity, which is a shame because I was quite looking forward to you struggling to pedal the thing yourself while I ghost-laughed in your sweaty face.”

“Still, the thought is lovely. Thank you.” He reached out a hand to lay on top of Bakura’s transparent one, causing the spirit to look back at it and frown, grumbling.

“Intentions are nothing, only follow-through. If we’re still alive in six months I’ll give it another go.”

“We could invite Yuu-gi,” Ryou suggested, lengthening the name on his lips and batting his eyes. “Then we would have two people to pedal.”

“Great thinking, Yadonushi! I’ll simply toss him off the boat at the blinding speed of two miles-per-hour and hope he drowns. My revenge on the pharaoh will be complete.”

“You said you wouldn’t hurt him or his friends.”

He contemplated for a moment. “So I did. His involvement is unavoidable but his death is not, if he stays out of my way.” He smirked, but it was the dark, sinister version of the expression, instead of playful. “How likely do you think that is, dearest host?”

Ryou started to say something, but thought better of it. He shifted gears in his head. “About as likely as me abandoning you, Kiseichuu.”

A flicker of surprise, and then the thief’s poker face returned. Ryou leaned in closer to him and pressed their lips together; he sensed Bakura’s eyes closing but he didn’t react, neither leaning into it nor pushing away. When Ryou pulled back, he looked flushed though, as much as a spirit could. It was astonishing to him that he could fuck so passionately and then freeze up because of a kiss in the park. It was endearing...almost.

“I thought all the mushy kissing garbage was for the end,” the spirit said with irritation.

“Oh, I have something else in mind for the end. How about we take this date on the move for now? There’s a delightful Sunday farmers’ market I’ve been wanting to investigate that’s just a few blocks from here.”

“Whatever you say, Yadonushi.”

* * *

He just _knew_ Bakura would like this. After another hour or two playing cards in a coffee shop, they made their way to Ryou’s target; every vendor with free samples of food was more than happy to dish out the good stuff for the pretty thief, who greedily assumed control of their face when the offering was meat-related. After a particularly good curry, he smacked his lips and beelined for a butcher’s tent, chilled display cases gleaming with fresh cuts of beef, pork, and chicken. Since this was a rare occasion where they were co-piloting, Ryou selected a pork tenderloin and some applewood-smoked thick-cut bacon to wrap it with for dinner.

He felt a ripple of anticipation mixed with anxiety from the spirit and reassured him, “Don’t worry, I’ll do everything in the oven.” The response was a nonverbal kind of ‘hmph’, as if to insist that he wasn’t worried at all and how dare Ryou suggest such a ridiculous thing?

Stuffed with samples (enough to constitute lunch, in fact), Ryou had started out toward the subway entrance with their spoils when he passed a church he used to go to with his father when he’d first arrived in Domino. Small groups of people were milling around outside; afternoon service must have just gotten out. The weight of the bag tugged a little more heavily at his shoulder, which he used as an excuse to pause and stare at the stained glass windows for a moment.

‘ _I don’t care if you want to go_ ,’ said the spirit indifferently.

Ryou felt a lump rise in his throat. ‘ _Probably not a good idea. I don’t want to get smited. Smote? You know, for harboring a demon._ ’

‘ _Surely I’m not bad enough to draw the ire of your gods too, Yadonushi._ ’

 _‘I wasn’t referring to you._ ’

Another overlap of their unwitting exchange of information that he was sure he wasn’t supposed to be able to perceive - all but confirmed by the sudden silence on Bakura’s end, which persisted for several more blocks as Ryou pressed forward.

His eyes moved against his will to the street sign as they approached the station, and then Bakura seemed to overcome his contemplation when he interrupted, ‘ _While we’re in the area, I have a small, insignificant detour_.’ 

Ryou froze. ‘ _Are you asking me if it’s okay to take over?_ ’

‘ _Not remotely. Just warning you it’s going to happen._ ’

He couldn’t help smiling. ‘ _It’s more than you’ve ever done before, Bakura_.’ 

That ‘hmph’, again, then Bakura relieved him of his control and ducked into a convenience store a half block down the cross street. A small, mustached man at the counter regarded him with passive distress and didn’t greet him.

Bakura looked up at him and waved. He held up their bag of perishables. “Hey jackass, can I stow this in the walk-in? I have some errands to run.”

“Sure, sure, you got my money?”

“I do, in fact.” Bakura left an envelope for him on the counter but they didn’t exchange any other pleasantries.

He turned his attention back to his host. Bakura didn’t say anything, though, just dissolved enough control for Ryou to feel his own hand gently caress his cheek, before slipping him back into the dark.

Ryou got fragments of the next several hours - a visit to the art history museum (which would have been a wonderful date on its own!), another shady back-alley deal, a few drinks at a martini lounge down by the pier. Bakura did rouse him then, briefly, to ask if Ryou wanted him to pick up the flirtatious bartender, a fiery redhead with broad shoulders and a topknot, but Ryou couldn’t get the pharaoh and Yugi out of his mind and declined.

Once he finally regained full awareness, Bakura was lounging on the couch back at their apartment with his feet up on the coffee table. Ryou had asked him not to do that a million times, so of course this time he had also left his shoes on.

“Welcome back,” he said aloud, taking another swig from a bottle of sake he must have stolen and...gods he could at least have used an ochoko even if he wasn’t going to bother with the full set of ceramic-ware. “I’m hungry again.”

“Did you…”

“Tenderloin is on the counter warming up and I preheated the oven.”

Astonishing, truly. Ryou thanked the gods that Bakura cared enough about his food to help out from time to time. 

Bakura let him have his body to finish the prep work and seasoning, before he slid the pan into the oven and returned to the couch. 

“We have about forty minutes,” Ryou said innocently. “What do you want to do?”

The response came from inside the Ring, ‘ _Oh, that’s plenty of time for me to punish you for defiling this couch. And to reward me for tolerating all this inane dating._ ’

Ryou giggled and rubbed his cheeks, admiring the hypocrisy since Bakura himself had gotten a spirited blowjob in the same spot. “I agree!” He made to stand up to head toward the bedroom, but felt his vision fade before he had the chance. 

‘ _Nope,_ ’ said the spirit, cackling. ‘ _You’re coming down here_.’

Ryou rather hoped so.

* * *

His banishment to the Ring was usually murky and plodding, but when the spirit was _there_ it was rather abrupt; he felt rather than saw the sting of nails digging into his arms as Bakura twisted his wrists behind his back into a heavy, restrictive set of shackles attached to a chain.

When he finally found his vision, he saw the familiar perpetual desert moonlight filtering through the barred window, casting an eerie glow on the stone wall and wooden bench attached to it. Ryou wondered what facet of Bakura’s tormented mind had chosen a prison for this space, but all the spirit had ever told him was that it was just another cell the pharaoh had thrown him into that he’d eventually escaped from.

From behind, Bakura grabbed a huge handful of Ryou’s long hair and yanked, and Ryou moaned to an approving purr from the spirit, who used his other hand to trace his waist and the curve of his hip. As it had been with the pharaoh, his reaction below the belt was instantaneous, and the spirit wasted no time in tugging off his pants and boxers, leaving him bare.

He felt Bakura grind his own clothed arousal into his backside, biting his way down Ryou’s spine and pulling at the metal where his wrists were cuffed. He was flipped, suddenly, and shoved back onto the bench where he fell ungracefully and the chain clattered beside him. He did his best to look terrified, but it was difficult when the man before him was such a vision.

Because in this place, Bakura was the Thief King, a bronzed god in his own right clad in a bejeweled red cloak and unencumbered by his host’s slender frame and pale skin. The white hair against his brown face made him look like he was wearing a silver crown, but he had little time to continue his admiration as his head was yanked forward toward the thief’s leaking cock. Why bother with pants or a shendyt in a dream? He was certainly not going to complain about being eye-level with chiseled abs either.

He lidded his eyes and extended his tongue, relishing in the bitter salt of the head and sucking greedily as Bakura held him in place and thrust. 

Bakura grunted and stifled a moan. “You know, Yadonushi, you should get some tips from your little friend, he did this thing with his tongue…” He pulled Ryou’s head back and stared heatedly into his eyes. He’d been wondering when the chiding would start. 

Ryou felt a drip of saliva run from the corner of his mouth and smirked. “He was also using his hands, and you’ve rather tied mine. Why don’t you invite him to show me? He can demonstrate and I can follow - or we can work on you together…”

“On the blow-job training, I like it.” He shoved Ryou horizontal at the shoulder and crawled on top of him, red folds of the cloth hanging on either side of them like a tawdry privacy curtain. Ryou felt the shackles dig into the small of his back as he was pressed into the wood, whining as the pain of the restraint cut through the pleasure of Bakura’s hands exploring the front of him. 

The spirit alternated between tender caresses and sharp pinches at his nipples and his sides, causing Ryou to jerk uncontrollably and poorly conceal his delight at the slow torture as no attention was paid to his own aching arousal. 

His hands converged again at Ryou’s throat, thumbs crushing his windpipe and the circumferential pressure cutting off blood to his brain. 

His voice had turned to a harsh whisper as his hardness pressed into Ryou’s thigh. “I could kill you, Yadonushi. Press a little harder. A little longer. You don’t need to breathe here. You just think you do.” He leaned more of his weight into the choke and Ryou saw his vision tunneling as he fought for oxygen. 

When Bakura finally released his grip, the rush was euphoric, radiating out to his extremities as he inhaled a strained breath. The ghost of pain from thief’s hands, the adrenaline of their manufactured near-death, and the hot flush that had spread throughout his body was a consuming sensual experience that was dangerous to replicate in the real world. 

After another breath, he yelped as two of Bakura’s fingers pushed inside him forcefully, while his lips and tongue traveled over his stomach. “You know…” a sharp inhale, “ _oh_ ...yes, right there!” He arched his back into the press against the pleasurable bundle of nerves, but the thief still would not touch his erection. “Let me...you know, this is why Marik’s dark side almost broke me - you make it feel so _fucking_ good.” 

The spirit chuckled and replaced his fingers with his cock, sheathing himself too quickly for Ryou to adjust and sending another bolt of pleasure and pain throughout his groin. He gasped and arched his hips into the downward motion, reveling in the rapture that clouded the mirth on the thief’s face as he pulled out to the tip and slid back in. 

As the tension and sweat on their skin built, Ryou was feeling particularly mischievous - he couldn’t grab the thief’s neck to pull him into a kiss, or his ass to force him to move faster, but he could still mess with his head. “What if you had Yugi like this?” he breathed softly. 

Bakura’s eyes rolled back and his eyelids fluttered shut. “Appealing,” he panted, “but I’m surprised Pharaoh didn’t tear my throat out for what I took already.” He finally, _finally_ , wrapped his hand around Ryou and started stroking. He was so aroused by this point that he knew he couldn’t last long - then the thief could _really_ take what he wanted. 

“Well then…” Ryou spoke again, “what about the pharaoh, then?” Bakura raised his eyebrows, and Ryou detected a sly notion of approval from the spirit, though its flavor was opportunistic and not necessarily lustful or affectionate. “Come on,” he continued, squirming around Bakura’s cock and thrusting eagerly into his hand. “Fuck him like this instead of in a shadow game. Doesn’t having him submit to you in bed sound more tempting than destroying his monsters from thirty feet away?” He willed his eyes to shift from brown to the pharaoh’s radiant violet, counting on the malleability of the soul room to assist. 

The reaction he wanted was immediate; Bakura lunged forward and captured Ryou’s lips in a searing kiss. “You’re a greedy little slut.” The pace of his thrusting became frantic.

“But am I an _accurate_ greedy little slut?” he tittered, aching for another kiss. Bakura was about to give it to him when a dark chill permeated the cell in an instant, the moonlight extinguished. A shadow of wrath enveloped them and Ryou failed to contain a full-body shiver.

The spirit's expression turned exasperated with a hint of worry, and he sighed. “Go, Yadonushi,” he commanded, withdrawing regretfully.

“But…”

“ _Go._ ” He disappeared in a wisp of white smoke.

Ryou huffed. There was now a very unfortunate void in his ass and in his heart as he disintegrated the shackles, and he was most intent on following the spirit deeper into the Ring where he could give a piece of his mind to...

The sensation of elevator lines being cut, but in reverse, gripped him as his consciousness jolted back to his real body. It weighed heavily on the fabric of his couch, and his throbbing erection protested against the confines of his now overwhelmingly tight pants. He plucked a pillow from the corner and pressed it into his face, screaming in frustration. Of all the evil shit the demon planned to do, blueballing Ryou was one thing he would rue putting on the list the most.

Despite the interruption, he guiltily admitted to himself that he had missed this. Yugi had custody of the Ring for three painful weeks after the Battle City tournament had ended, and Ryou had felt fracture instead of relief. The shifting in and out of reality, the adrenaline rush, and Bakura winking at him with his own eyes in the bathroom mirror were a welcome, coveted distraction from the reality of the dark magic that imprisoned them. 

Luckily, he’d regained consciousness when there was still three minutes on his dinner timer; as soon as it dinged, he let the dish rest on the stovetop for a while and then portioned out two servings, hoping the thief would re-appear. It smelled wonderful, after all, even though pork wasn’t usually his go-to. Once it was clear that wasn’t going to happen, he put the leftovers in tupperware and tossed them in the fridge, hoping they would at least be able to share lunch in between classes.

As he showered and got ready for bed, Ryou tried not to notice the antique hourglasses that had appeared that day next to the sandbox in his studio.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What has this become? Will every chapter continue to have a lemon? Well, it's me, so I probably can't help myself. Hold on to your butts because I'm adding a Darkshipping tag.


End file.
